Last Song
by pterryfan
Summary: "I heard this in a used bookstore the other day and the words just came into my head.  I don't really know why exactly, but I thought I'd share them with you. Please read this."
1. Chapter 1

Last Song

The door flew open as Alex Eames entered her apartment. She dropped her purse on the floor, content spilling everywhere. A drink, a drink, she needed a drink before she collapsed.

Reaching the couch, she fell down hard, sobs finally escaping her body in a rush of relief.

Damn him! Damn Bobby Goren! She could have killed him! It was weeks later, and still every day it was a struggle to enter the precinct calmly, go through the motions of partnership and detective work. She knew she was hurting him with her silence, and her question, "Are you sure you need both of us for this?" Good! She was suffering too.

She spent a long time on the couch deep in thought. Finally she reached a decision. It would hurt, but it was time for them both to move on. She would tell Captain Ross as soon as she got into work tomorrow.

Feeling no better but slightly emptier, she got up from the couch. She would feel better for a shower. But she could feel (how could she feel at a time like this?) guilt tugging at her. She had not checked e-mail in a few days. It in fact had been before what she called in her own mind The Discovery. She still got bills and other legal papers by snail mail, but still she worried that she had missed something important.

Sighing, she sat at her desk and logged on. A few e-coupons from her favorite shoe store—and one from her soon-to-be-former partner. Dated, hmm, a day after he had gotten his badge back. Erase it? It was probably an apology, but its subject line, "A Quick Song," had her intrigued.

"Dear Eames, I heard this in a used bookstore the other day and the words just came into my head. I don't really know why exactly, but I thought I'd share them with you. Please read this. And, please forgive a fool."

Puff the Magic Dragon

Lived by the Sea

And protected all the innocent

in the land of Brave and Free.

Little Alex Dutton

loved that dragon true,

he brought her sugared coffee,

and rainbow skittles, too.

Together they would travel

in a car of magic wheels

And Puff would do his magic tricks

While Alex Dutton steered.

The innocent were joyful,

the bad men shook with fear,

When Alex and her dragon

In the city would appear

A dragon lives forever,

Friendships seldom do,

and bad mistakes and angry words

replaced a love so true,

As one black night it happened,

Alex turned away,

No sugar cups or magic words

Were enough to make her stay.

Puff's head hung with sorrow,

tears fell on the floor,

he knew without his little friend

His magic was no more,

Without his partner by his side,

His magic spells went too,

And Puff knew that all his life,

He would miss her love so true.

"This might be the last true thing I am allowed to share with you. It's a silly thing, but why not something silly? You always did love my silliness."

Alex logged off her computer, feeling rather misty eyed. _Now_ was time for a good shower. As the water misted up around her, she remembered hearing that song growing up, occasionally tearing up in sympathy for the poor abandoned creature. Was that what she was doing? Abandoning him? Suddenly she thought of how happy he'd been on the day he got his badge back. Had he thought she had forgiven him? She told him quite succinctly that she hadn't. But if she had, that day could have been different. She had stolen that happiness from him. He probably hadn't deserved that. No, she knew he didn't. And how many other days had she taken from their partnership?

She dried her tears as the faucet was turned off. Enough wasted days. One more chance. For both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Robert Goren sat on the couch in his living room. The fourth beer was warm in his hands, and the effects were slowly being felt. It was not a pleasant feeling, he was merely numb. He didn't feel anything, his mind was shutting down from the constant self-accusation that had been occupying it for the past few days.

_Why_ had he not told her? Dear God, why? It had made so much sense when he was in the thick of things. The reasons he had had for his silence had all vanished like smoke when she confronted him. He had presented them one by one like cherished gems, and she had broken, shattered each one. Ever since then, their friendship, their partnership, had been in ruins.

Oh, God, what in Heaven's name had he done? All he'd wanted was his job back, his friendship back, his life back. Never mind that without his mother, it was a half-life, a broken life. He knew that she knew that was the main reason why he got up in the morning. The fact that she knew, and chose to turn away from him anyway, hurt the most. Getting his shield back was hard to remember now. He'd been stupidly happy, not caring that his partner still hated him. That had been a mistake. The moment he got home, he knew what an idiot he'd been. The dead rat in his desk drawer might as well have been sent from her. The rat didn't hurt as much as her abandonment.

He'd tried to forget his troubles with a trip to his favorite used bookstore, which had a quaint tendency to play '50s and '60s music instead of forgettable muzak. Normally he liked hearing music from his boyhood, but who in his state was ready to hear a song about abandonment in the form of growing up?

That stupid song! Why had he sent that? It was stupid, it was better forgotten and never thought of again. "You always did love my silliness." Stupid. As if that would turn her heart now.

The beer was not helping.

Another can? Sure, why not?

As he sipped he thought over his next moves. As far as he was concerned, his life was over. He just had to take the final steps. Let go of the partnership he had cherished for so long and destroyed so carelessly. After that, was there anyplace he'd like to go? Germany, again, would be nice. As a bonus, it probably would never get back to Eames. He would simply have disappeared. It would be good to see his mother once more.

He sat on his couch shivering a little from thoughts of the future, or rather his not having one, when the doorbell rang. He got up to answer it, hastily putting a piece of gum in his mouth in case it was someone he didn't want to offend with his breath.

It was Eames. His mouth dropped open. Eames! Here!

Ignoring his surprise, she stepped into his apartment, letting the door shut behind her and looking around at the mess. "Hurricane Bobby has been here, I see."

"More like a tornado, and they don't name those." She smirked. Shit. Every time he opened his mouth he said something dumb. He was smart, but he was so _stupid_!

Trying to step over a wrinkled shirt, he overbalanced. To his slight amazement, she reached over to catch him. That's when she noticed the smell of him. "Oh boy, you've been drinking, haven't you?"

A monosyllabic grunt.

She sighed. "I guess I should have called first. Tell you what, step into the shower and cool off. I'll make some coffee." She looked closely at his face. "Are you okay? Well, no you aren't, are you? We really need to settle this."

He returned from the shower in clean blue jeans and his black shirt, his stomach in knots and his heart going triple-time. She was ending their partnership. He just knew it. At least she had come over to tell him face to face, instead of him finding it out from Ross.

He paused in the doorway, wanting to stare at her beautiful face one last time, remember it in minute detail as she sipped her coffee. Then he geared himself for the worst news he had heard since his mother was diagnosed with fatal cancer.

"Bobby," Eames started, "I want to apologize to you for something."

"Okay," he said, not sure what she felt she had to be sorry for.

"The day you got your shield back. It should have been a happy day for both of us."

"Well, you were still mad at me. I was wrong to be happy—"

"No, Bobby, you weren't. Not at all. I was the one with the wrong attitude."

What was going on here? "Um, well, if you feel that way . . ."

"I took away what should have been a happy day for you."

"Did you notice I didn't care much?" he asked bitterly.

She gave him a look made partly of fondness and wry emotion. "Yes, I did. But I still feel bad that I wasn't happy for you. We should have both been happy, and the truth is, Bobby, I was. Happy, I mean."

"You were?" he asked again, genuinely surprised.

"I was happy that you were back. I just didn't show you."

His stomach unclenching slightly, he leaned back in his chair as he studied her carefully, completely at a loss for words.

"Call me a bitch, I deserve it."

"Wait, I'm still confused about something. Are you still mad at me or not?"

"No, I'm not."

He suddenly felt a relief so deep it brought tears to his eyes. "Oh Eames, thank God! You don't know what I've been going through—But I know you've been suffering too," he added quickly.

"You're trying, and I appreciate the effort Bobby."

"You do?"

"Bobby!" she exclaimed, completely exasperated. She went to kneel beside where he was sitting. "This is me, your friend, here. Who did you think I was?"

"Someone else who hated me."

She thought about that a minute. "I understand how you could think that. But you can't be right all the time now can you?" She grinned at him.

He gave a small smile back. "Eames, I'm glad to be wrong."

"Here, have some coffee. Your breath won't get any better, but at least you'll be more sober."

They sat there together a few minutes, drinking small sips of coffee and, for the first time in days, enjoying the silent companionship."

"Eames," Bobby said suddenly, "there's some other thing that I haven't told you. It's not about the job; it's about me."

"Are you sick?" He was grateful to hear the concern in her voice when she asked that question.

"No, that isn't it. The thing is, it's—Eames, can there be a thing, that I know that you don't know, that you don't know what it is, but I don't exactly want to tell you, that you won't pry into, but we can still be friends anyway?"

"What?"

"I'm not good at sharing my private life with people. Even if they are my friends."

"Oh, you're private life." She sat back. "I can understand you having a secret from me." She frowned. "Like what kind of secret?"

"Oh, God, what have I done? It's not about the job, I swear. I don't even think you'd ever find out I had a secret if I didn't tell you."

"Okay, I won't ask then.  
"_Thank you_, Eames."

"If I ever find out what it is, you'll tell me, you'll say 'okay you've discovered it', right?"

"Yes I promise."

She looked at him a long time. "Thanks for telling me you weren't telling me something. You probably never noticed, but I can always tell when you aren't telling me something. Like with your mom. It hurt a little, finding out that way."

He looked at her over his cup. "I should start treating you better, shouldn't I?"

"Sometimes I feel you treat me like a piece of furniture."  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

They talked long into the night, he secure in the knowledge that he could have his secret, that he didn't need to tell Eames that Mark Ford Brady was his biological father. She would never have to know.

He could not have been more wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

The last time I wrote about the events of "Frame," I had Eames shoot Bobby. Boy, what a mood

I was in that day. Hopefully things will end better for Bobby and Eames this time around.

.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

The past few days seemed to last forever, and they could not have been worse. Eames was exhausted, worried, scared, and mad all at once. She guessed, correctly, that Bobby's paternity was what he had been keeping from her. She wanted to ask him, "Did you think I would turn away from you because of this?" As if she would have. She was starting to realize that Bobby Goren, genius though he was, did not understand the term "in it for the long haul."

That was so sad, heartbreaking really. Whatever had happened to make him that way she had no idea, but his mother probably came into it somewhere. Never mind his—what was she supposed to call him, the man who Bobby thought was his father until now? Poor man, to have two fathers, both of them scum. . . .

"Eames," captain Ross's voice cut through her thoughts. It was just as well, her thoughts had not been good company these past few days. She could not imagine what Bobby's feelings were.

She watched her partner work Declan Gage, thinking that he, Bobby, was being much slower and gentle with this particular suspect than usual. She wondered why. Ritchie had told her how Bobby had almost torn Gage's head off when he suspected his old mentor in her kidnapping. This gentleness now she could only assume was because Gage's mind was gone.

"You told me so, in confidence," Declan was telling Bobby now.

Bobby told Gage about Mark Ford Brady? And she had to learn it second hand? Her knees seemed to give way a little bit at the shock of it, the bite of it. How could he.

"Detective, are you all right?"

She looked at her Captain. "How could he do this to me?"

Ross looked away, and Eames felt ashamed of blurting out such a selfish question. _Pull yourself together_, she commanded herself. It was a stupid,. selfish question.

But then the Captain turned back to her. "Eames, you partner . . . you of all people should know that while his actions may not always be orthodox, his motives are always pure. I think you need to think about that before you go in there. You don't want to regret what you do or say in there."

No, of course, he was right. No more regrets. In it for the long haul. Damn right.

.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

The cops came in to take Declan away. As he stood up, he looked at Bobby. "I wonder where I'll end up, eh? Maybe in Carmel Ridge. I'm not exactly dangerous, after all."  
Bobby looked at him, amazed. "You, in that place, where my mother was? I'd sooner see you dead than defiling that place."

And for once, the great profiler was at a loss for words. As they led him away Bobby knew he'd never talk to Declan again. He also might never talk to his partner again. She heard everything, she knew everything. They had just gotten over one crisis and now. . .

Bobby put his head on the desk, and waited for her to walk in, to say it was over. Not even Eames, loyal as she was, would overlook a betrayal this big. Finally he heard the door close, and looked up as she sat down on the chair opposite him.

They sat there in the most uncomfortable silence, neither daring to speak. Finally Bobby broke down. Putting his head down again, he let the tears come. After a moment, he felt her hand on his shoulder. He looked up, surprised at her gentleness, to see the worried look on her face.

"Eames, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, you shouldn't have found out this way. I did it. . . I did it all wrong. Again." He got his sobs under some control. "Just one thing. If you want a new partner, I'll resign. Please don't end our partnership. I'll just resign. The job . . .it doesn't matter to me anymore."

"I know it feels like that Bobby. You're hurting, and you shouldn't make decisions at a time like this."

"Eames, don't you understand? You don't have to be nice to me right now. I did a terrible thing."

"Shh, Bobby, don't talk like that. You've done nothing that we can't get behind us, together, like partners do."

He looked at her for a long moment. Finally he said, "I'm scared."

Tears came to her eyes. "Don't worry, Bobby. It's okay."

He couldn't look at the compassion in her eyes. He didn't deserve a friend like her.

"Bobby," said Eames, "I think I know why you told Declan and not me."

He looked up at her again. "Really? I don't know myself."

"Declan," she began, "was always a cold-minded man. What did he tell you when you told him?"

"He said how fascinating it was, went on about Nature versus Nurture. Said what Jo told me, that I could have gone either way."

"And it didn't scare him, that idea that you might have ended up . . .?"

"No, it just—interested him."

"That seems like how he'd act. And you _knew_ that he'd act that way, didn't you?"

"I suppose so."

"And you were afraid of what I'd do, what I'd say, if I found out."

Shame made him look away. "You just . . . I saw the way you felt around Brady. He bothered you. I didn't—I mean I couldn't—We were still fighting, I don't know what I was thinking."

She reached out, took his hand in hers. "Did you worry I would be too disgusted by it to be your partner anymore?"

"I was, I was, I don't know."

"You were protecting our partnership, weren't you?"

"I never thought of it that way. But I thought—I guess I thought you were waiting for a reason to end it."

"Bobby, I'm glad you don't think I'm like Declan. I think you don't understand loyalty as well as you should—But you do understand cold rationality. We see that every day."

"Not to mention that I'm a cold son of a bitch."

"Bobby, you're not. I don't know what that man told you to make you feel that way, but I am telling you, you're one of the kindest, most sensitive man I've ever met. My point is, you did what you did based on what you know about people, or what you think you know anyway. You were right about Declan, but you were wrong about me. Okay?"

No, he _absolutely_ did not deserve her. "I'm forgiven?"

"Actually, it's kind of a compliment. You knew I wasn't as cold as . . . some of my nicknames would suggest. You thought that I'd have an emotional reaction, just as you thought Declan would not have one."

"Eames, I—You aren't mad at me?"

"I was in shock. But I realized I shouldn't judge you by what I would expect of someone else. You're unique, but you are not malicious as a rule. You didn't do this to hurt me, I choose to believe you did it to protect our partnership."

His head spun. Everything was all right between them? She wasn't going to end their partnership?

It didn't solve much, considering the mess that had become his life. But it was a hell of a lot better than what he was expecting. "Eames, I'd like to go home."

"I'm staying with you tonight. Or you could stay on my place, sleep in the guest bed."

He rubbed his eyes. "The second option, I suppose."

He made it to his desk before it all hit him. His brother, his nemesis, his mentor . . . His knees weakened. He sat down suddenly as he was collecting his things. His longs felt too small, he felt like he was falling. Once again, Eames was there with a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "I've got you Bobby. You're going to be alright."

He looked at her, his face a picture of confusion. "What's happened to my life? What happened to it?"

His partner had no anwer.


End file.
